The Fear in Death
by frostandpitch
Summary: essentially, Pitch was there when Jack died. this is like the story of that day from their points of view.


Pitch flinched. Fear. And strong. The strongest he'd felt in quite a while. He took a moment to look away from the beautiful nightmare he'd produced and focused for a moment. Traveling through the shadows to find the source of this delicious trepidation, Pitch ended up appearing at the lake, right next to the entrance to his home. "It's gonna be okay." Pitch turned towards the voice. "Would I play tricks on you?" A boy. No more than seventeen. Deep brown hair and eyes a shade darker. He and what looked to be his younger sister stood, paralyzed, on the ice over the lake. Deep cracking sounds radiated from where they stood, and Pitch was biting back his laughter.

Jack's heart pounded. The ice was too thin, dammit, he thought furiously. How did you not see it? "No, it's not!" his sister insisted. "Yes, you would, you always play tricks." Jack couldn't help but laugh a little. "Not this time. It's just like hopscotch," he said, keeping his voice light but flat, praying his sister wouldn't read too much into his face and see his fear. "It's as easy as one, two," Jack took another unsteady step on the already deeply fractured ice. "Three! See? Easy." He told his sister, grinning. He could feel the ice beneath him shattering, and fast. He had to get her to the thicker bit of the ice towards the shore. Jack looked at his sister, frightened but doing what he said. Good, Jack thought. Keep going… For a moment, out of the corner of his eye, Jack thought he saw something shift over in the trees. Don't be ridiculous, he chided himself. Your mind is playing tricks on you. There's no such thing as the - Jack caught himself there. That was just too silly. He had been a childhood nightmare. Nothing more. "…Two, and, three!" Jack said, counting her steps silently aloud while her sister laughed a little. Using the staff he had brought with him on the ice, he smacked her as hard as he could towards the shore, and the extra force brought him down. The ice couldn't support him any longer. For a split second he felt the ice beneath him sink, and

Pitch laughed for real. It was quiet, but deep and rich. Yes, fear. This boy had it in ample supply. "Jack!" the boy's sister called. "Jack!" His yellow eyes glinted in the shadows like a cat's. The boy's body, Jack's, slowly sunk beneath the frigid surface of the lake. Pitch knew that over the years, the space around the entrance to his room had been a slightly unnerving spot for children and adults alike, and many had left it nearly insane with panic and fear, but he couldn't say that anyone had ever really died here. Adds to the mystique, he told himself, his expression now for the most part blank.

Cold. Dark. Lonely. Scared. For a moment, Jack was unable to comprehend anything. His mind had been empty, but suddenly it was flooding with feelings and thoughts and fears. It was unpleasant. Where… he thought. His first coherent thought in… Jack's mind was blank. He didn't recall anything. For all he knew, this was the beginning of his existence. He had no recollection of anything whatsoever. Jack had been dimly aware of the fact that he was rising to the surface of the water, though where he was he still didn't know. Within a few moments, he met the surface of the water and pushed through a very thin layer of ice. He coughed and turned over on his side, pulling himself up onto the ice shakily. Seeing a long wooden staff, he realized that he could use it to help himself get to the shore. He reached out to it, and frost flowers snaked across it, tinting it blue. Jack knit his eyebrows together, grinning. How…? He asked himself. He slid across the ice, wobbling the whole way but using the staff to keep his balance, he eventually came to the shore and leaned against a tree. Again, frost flowers bloomed on the tree's bark at his touch, flowering across the whole of the tree. Staring, unsure what to think, he poked the tree next to it with his staff. The same reaction. Jack laughed.

The fear faded. Pitch had stayed for hours watching the lake, long after the girl had left. He had still felt some form of diluted consciousness after the boy sank and the girl left, and only the traces of fear on it had kept him there. What had happened fascinated him. Obviously he could feel death. There was usually an enormous spike in fear and then… it just ceased. This was different. Pitch had known that the boy would drown. His body would go into shock at the cold and be unable to respond fast enough to get him air. He wasn't a doctor, but there were certain things he knew about death, though that wasn't his specific area. The boy hadn't died, though. His fear had been on a steady decline, slowly but surely, but then remained constant for a while. This had fascinated Pitch, so he'd stuck around. He had been just about to leave when he saw the boy surface again, much paler with bright blue eyes and white hair. Generally the same yet all too different. Pitch narrowed his eyes. How was this boy alive? Then it hit him - hard. He turned furiously towards the Man in the Moon, who stayed as silent as ever. Pitch's dark form slowly twisted around again, though, and watched the boy test out his new abilities coldly.

Jack Frost. Jack staggered a bit. What? Your name is Jack Frost.


End file.
